The Dark Side of Mako
by Murshaad
Summary: This collection of short stories was actually published several years ago, but I took them down to do some slight editing and re-writes. I've now reposted them for your reading pleasure. Be warned before you read them, these are not warm and fuzzy stories with fairy tale happy endings; these are The Dark Side of Mako… Enjoy.
1. Story 1: Zac

Story 1: Zac

What would you do to keep the child you always wanted…

* * *

The toddler, who looked to be about six months in age, lay swathed in the crisp white sheets draping the stainless steel morgue tray on which he had been placed. His bod, his small body was lifeless and still, the hint of color in the baby's pallid skin was a slight tinge of blue that was highlighted by the glare of overhead fluorescent lights.

Robert Blakely, Third Year Resident Medical Officer, looked down at the child lying on the clean sheets and gleaming steel tray for several moments, and then focused his attention on the medical chart he held. He swallowed nervously, and with a shaking hand tenderly pulled the sheet over the infant's head, with one last look at the small body he slid the tray back into the refrigeration unit and closed the door. Taking a few deep breaths Rob walked over to a desk, sat down and biting his lips flipped through the records. The boy had been brought to the emergency department of the Princess Alexandra Hospital by frantic parents who had found him unresponsive in his crib…_SIDS. _The emergency department staff had done all they could, but it had been too late, and now several hours later the toddler lay cold in a refrigeration unit waiting for the medical examiner to report final cause of death.

Rob paged through the chart, nervous eyes taking note of all the information he needed. What he was about to do was the most dangerous, not to mention despicable, act he'd ever done in his young life, and if caught it would destroy his medical career, his marriage, and land both himself and his wife Lauren in jail. A distant sound, the chime of an elevator, caused Rob's head to shoot up, pulse racing in panic as every ounce of attention was focused on the morgue doorway. After several minutes of nothing happening, he relaxed and reaching reached for a phone on the desk dialed an outside line.

"Hi, it's me," Rob said into the phone, his voice cracking slightly as he looked down at the medical chart before him. "I-I think I found what we need…it's as close a match as we can get…so it's time…make the call…I love you." Setting the receiver down on its cradle, Rob took several deep breaths to calm himself, and then chart in hand walked over a to a Xerox machine and started making copies.

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right thing to do?" Lauren Blakely asked for what must have been the millionth time as she paced the floor of the small two bedroom rental house she and Rob occupied. The place was quaint, tucked away in the quiet Brook Street neighborhood of South Brisbane; it also offered a convenient commute from Princess Alexandra Hospital if Rob needed to be home quickly. Though it was nearly midnight she and Rob had dimmed the whole house, only a few small lamps offered any illumination. Shaking her head Lauren stopped to look down at toddler sleeping angelically on the sofa, one of his fist curled tightly around a blanket. Biting her lip she turned her attention to her husband, "What if we get caught? What if this-this _woman_…do you even know who she is? What if she turns us in?"

"Honey," Rob, in the act of peeking out the heavy drapes that covered the front windows, sighed. "We've been over this before; it's been a month since you called her and we delivered the hospital records-"

"We didn't deliver the records Rob," Lauren clarified sharply. "We left them on a bench in Musgrave Park in the middle of the night."

"And yet no police or child services has shown up," Rob responded. "Lauren, we'll be fine…Zac will be fine…we _have_ to do this."

"I know," Lauren closed her eyes with a sigh of defeat. "I'm just scared. We've waited so long for this, but sometimes I wonder if we're doing the right thing."

"We don't have much of a choice," Rob's spoke softly looking out the window once more, and then crossing the room to look down at the boy sleeping on the couch. "We can't turn Zac over or tell anyone; we don't know who his parents are, or where he came from. They could be drug dealers or criminals…he's a baby, not some stray puppy we found on the beach and brought home to live with us."

Lauren sank down on the sofa, eyes on the sleeping toddler. "I know, and if we told anyone they'd take him away, the police and human services would investigate, and we'd lose him." Never taking her eyes off the child she said, "I just want this to work, our parents, are friends, nobody knows we even have him." She turned looking into an empty corner. "And what if this _woman_ wants more? What if this is some kind of blackmail scheme, it's costing everything we have…everything my grandparents left me."

"Honey, she will help us," Rob soothed. "It took us four months to find someone to do this, I know it will work." He followed his wife gaze to the corner of the living room, a space that until recently had been occupied by a centuries old Grandfather clock, a wedding gift from Lauren's grandparents. The clock had weathered over three months at sea when Laurens ancestors had emigrated from Wales during the Yilgarn Gold Rush of 1887, and now it was gone, sold off to an antique dealer from Sydney. "It _has_ to work."

"What we're doing still bothers me Rob," Lauren's eyes were on the floor as she spoke. "Somewhere two parents are mourning the loss of their own son, and we're using their loss so ours-"

"Will have a life," Rob finished his voice barely rising above a whisper. "I know, but it's something we have to do."

Both Lauren and Rob froze as a soft knock sounded on the front door, their heads pivoting to stare at the digital display on the DVD player on the television stand; 12:00 AM, midnight.

"I'll…I'll get it," Rob spoke almost tonelessly as Lauren straightened on the sofa, one hand hovering protectively over the sleeping form of Zac. Walking to the door, Rob stopped straightened his shoulders, and opened it.

"Robert Blakely," A woman's voice, soft, British, and formal greeted from the darkness beyond the door.

"Um, yes," Rob answered nervously craning his neck to look around the dark figure that stood on the small front deck of the house.

"It's quite alright," The woman purred. "I'm alone and there no authorities here, you and your wife are quite safe."

"Ah…um…do come in," Rob invited casting a wide eyed glance at Lauren who had paled slightly, but not moved from the sofa.

The woman on the doorstep glided into the room, the movement fluid and unhurried, her face was lined and wrinkled with age, thick grey hair done up in a matronly style was held in place by a silver Victorian hair comb, the cameo centerpiece of the comb gleamed of polished ivory in the low light. The hair and the comb perfectly matched the archaic black Victorian dress, boots, and shawl the woman wore. Unlike the rest of her somber garb the woman lips and manicured fingernails were a bright, and almost garish, lacquered red. Eyes, hollow and of an indistinct color in the dim light focused on the sleeping form of Zac for a moment, then turned to observe Rob and Lauren. "Robert and Lauren Blakely I presume," The woman repeated.

"Yes," Rob squeaked with a nervous swallow.

"I believe I have what you require," The woman produced a manila folder from nowhere, held it out and then withdrew it. "First, my payment?"

"Oh…um yeah," Rob spoke hastily and with a glance at Lauren, whose pale face and wide eyes stared at the stranger, he exited into the small kitchen adjacent to the living room and returned moments later, a plain paper bag clutched in both hands. Holding the bag out to the stranger he said, "This is it, everything we have, all our life savings…it's all here- in cash."

"Excellent," The woman replied and with a languid movement plucked the sack from Rob with one hand and held the envelope out with the other. "And I believe you will find everything is in order."

Hand shaking, Rob took the manila envelope and cast a look at Lauren, before turning back to the stranger. "That's it? This is it? It's all done now? You-you don't want anything else?"

"No, everything is complete," The woman replied, her crimson lips turning upward in a smile. "It's all done; as far as the Government of Australia and the rest of the world are concerned Zac Blakely officially exists; he has a birthdate, a birth record, and everything is in order for his life to begin." She looked the Blakely's over with a friendly smile. "As of tonight Robert and Lauren, you are officially Zacs adopted parents."

"And…and we won't get caught?" Lauren spoke for the first time in several moments, her posture relaxing slightly. "This won't…um…get reported?"

"No, never," The woman answered. "I've done this….many times, for many years. Everything is done in strictest of confidence."

Squinting at the documents in the dim light Rob questioned, "So you've done this before…I mean of course you've done this before but-." He exchanged a look of embarrassment with Lauren and stammered, "But I mean we found Zac abandoned on a beach so this has got to be weird for you…" He trailed off lamely and closed his mouth with a sigh.

"Actually it's not," The woman smiled.

"What?" Lauren blurted and then recovered, avoiding the strange woman's dark eyes. "I-I…sorry."

"No need to apologize," The woman said her friendly demeanor unbroken. "Recently I arranged the adoption of another child found under similar circumstances; he was discovered on a beach near Sydney…a boy, close to the same age as Zac. Unlike your son-" She paused for the fraction of a heartbeat, eyes flicking to the Zacs chubby baby legs. "The child in question has _special needs_. However I found a family that understands the boy's requirements, and a price…quite different from yours."

"Oh," Rob spoke softly. "I'm really sorry for the parents…I mean Zac is healthy and normal."

"Yes, quite so," Once more the woman's eyes skimmed over Zacs legs. "One could say it's almost magical."

Shivering slightly Lauren spoke softly, "It makes me wonder what kind of mothers would be willing to just abandon children like that."

"What sort of mothers indeed," The stranger murmured. "Probably the type best avoided."

"Ah…so," Lauren cleared her throat. "You ah…only do this sort of thing for…ah children."

"My, my," The woman purred her dark eyes flicking to Rob and then to Lauren. "What inquisitive people you are, I find this rather refreshing after all these years; I can see your son will be raised quite properly." Looking the Blakely's over again, the woman said, "To answer your question, no…I actually performed the same service for an adult once, years ago, she's a high school teacher now. It was quite a challenge finder _her_…an identity that fit."

"Well…um…," Rob cleared his throat, an alarmed look at look at Lauren. "It's getting late and-"

"Yes, it is," The strange woman said. "I'll be on my way." She took step back into darkness beyond the door.

"So this is it," Rob asked looking down at the manila envelope his hands. "Just making sure we're all sorted, you have your money and we don't have anything to worry about."

"No," The voice drifted in from the doorway. "Everything is set and everything is proper." The dark outline of the figure on the stoop spoke, her tone serious, "However a word of advice."

"Yes," Rob answered his voice nervous as he looked at Lauren.

"I hear that Gold Coast will be in need of quality doctors," The woman spoke. "And the schools are excellent. Consider that after your residency is complete."

"We-we were thinking about Perth actually," Lauren said, her voice quavering as she looked at Rob. "Most of my family lives there."

"Oh, believe me," The woman answered, her form nothing more than a silhouette on the front landing. "Raising your son on Gold Coast is probably the best, the air…the water…are much healthier." The outline of her head tilted slightly to regard Zac's sleeping form on the sofa. "And when he's grown, who knows what kind of tales he'll have to tell."

"Huh?" Rob asked, confused looking over at Lauren, she only looked back, her expression equally confused.

"A word of advice though," The woman's voice issued from the dark, the sound of it distance as if she was moving farther away. "Forget this night ever happened; push it into the deepest recess of your mind. As far the world is concerned Zac Blakely is _your_ son, and never let _anyone_, no matter _who_ they are, or _where_ they come from convince you otherwise. If so you risk losing a son forever."

"What do you mean by that?" Lauren asked, voice alarmed, body tensing as she stared into the darkened doorway. "Rob?"

Rob took a step forward. "She's gone," He announced, brow furrowed as Lauren crossed the room, both of them looking out the open door into the darkness of the small yard. "What now? What do you think she meant by that?" He asked looking over at his wife.

"I don't know, but we follow her advice," Lauren whispered. "We forget this night happened, and never talk about it, and hope we never have to tell Zac or anyone else what we did in order to bring him into our family. He's our son now."

With only a nod, Rob closed the door and locked it.


	2. Story 2: The Job

Story 2: The Job

What would you sacrifice to get the job you've always wanted…

* * *

"I think I want a job," Mimmi announced as she stepped through the door way to Rita's hidden grotto, one hand hidden behind her back.

On the lower level, Sirena who had a collection of shells, glass beads and string strewn across a low round coffee table paused to look at her fellow mermaid, and then glance over to Ondina, who was lounging on mass of pillows, fashion magazine in hand. "What brought this on?" Sirena asked turning her attention back to Mimmi.

"Yeah, because that's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said," Ondina snorted as she sat up; casually she tossed the magazine she had been paging through onto the table, just missing Sirena's collection of trinkets.

"Well," Mimmi answered brightly, and with just a slight hint of a smug smile stepped over to the railing of the upper level of the grotto and look down at the Ondina. "Money for one thing, and I-I also like to meet people and-"

"Oh please," Ondina interrupted. "You're a mermaid, we don't 'meet' people, and if we need money Rita gives it to us-"

"Excuse me," Sirena looked at Ondina out of the corner of her eyes. "I don't ask Rita for money anymore, I make my own."

"You make bracelets," Ondina pointed out.

"Which Evie sells and then I get paid for," Sirena shot back. "Which is more than you do."

"See," Mimmi announced bursting with excitement as she grinned at Sirena. "Sirena's right." Excitedly she revealed what she was hiding behind her back, several pieces of paper stapled together and featuring a dolphin jumping over blue waves with the words _Sea World _emblazoned below it. "I'm getting a job, all I have to do is give this to someone and they give me a job."

"What is that?" Ondina demanded standing and taking a step closer to look up at the papers Mimmi presented with quivering hands.

"An appli- application," Mimmi answered stumbling over the words. "For Sea World…I…I decided after we visited that I wanted to work there." Seeing the storms gathering in Ondina's eyes Mimmi said quickly, "They have dolphins, I can talk to the dolphins, and it'll be fun-"

"They're in cages, trapped," Ondina's eyes narrowed as they zeroed in papers Mimmi held. "Same as you if you get caught; so don't even think about it."

"Is something going on?" Rita's voice sounded as she stepped into the room and looked at the three younger mermaids. Her eyes alighted on the collection of beads and shells spread out before Sirena. "You know I had several teachers comment that they like the tortoise shell bracelets. I could probable get several more sold for you, if you'd like."

"Thanks," Sirena aimed a triumphant smile at Ondina. "I'll make them a priority."

"Mimmi wants a job," Ondina blurted ignoring Sirena. "Tell her she's being ridiculous, she has papers for it, and it's just a stupid idea."

"Really?" Rita turned her attention to Mimmi who stood looking embarrassed, the younger mermaid quickly hid the application behind her back, avoiding Rita's inquiring look. "May I?" Rita asked. "Mimmi you have nothing to hide or be ashamed of."

Sheepishly Mimmi handed the form to Rita.

Rita flipped through the papers, smiling at the large blocky and childlike print on the forms. "Place of birth," Rita read aloud glancing at Mimmi. "Queen Charlotte Sound …Birthdate: It was late winter, when the Grey Whales travel south…Current Address: Rita's house…Reference: I think it's a country in Europe next to Germany…" Rita pursed her lips, "Oh dear, I'm afraid this will never do."

"What?" Mimmis face fell. "What's the matter? Did I spell it wrong?" She looked down at Ondina and Sirena for support, "I've never really written anything before…I mean we were taught how to read Canadian because land people put words and letters on their boats-"

"It's called English," Rita corrected with a small laugh. "Most of Canada, as well as Australia and the United States all read and write in English." Flipping through the papers again, she said, "You're spelling is fine, your penmanship though could use some-well never mind about that. Your answers however," Rita grimaced before she continued. "They will require a bit more work."

"See I told you," Ondina shook her head. "You're a mermaid, you don't need a job or even know how to write."

Mimmi's shoulders slumped, her lips quivering, "Okay, so it was stupid idea."

"No, this can be fixed," Rita nodded. "And I should have seen this coming, but it's just-" She sighed, eyes becoming distant and misting over for a moment, then clearing her throat Rita her attention back to Mimmi, "You see as a mermaid you don't exist, none of us do."

"That's dumb, we're standing right here," Ondina scoffed and crossed her arms with a snort. "We're as real as you are."

"That's not exactly what I meant Ondina," Rita explained. "True you are alive, but on land…it's complicated; life on land, living among humans…getting a job," She aimed a smile at Mimmi. "Require identification, birth records, school records, license, the list is practically endless, and none of you have any of that, I'm afraid."

"What a dumb way to live," Ondina derided. "No wonder land people are so stupid."

"Well, for life on land, having a valid identity is a necessity," Rita replied pointedly. "Besides that Ondina, the "stupid land people", as you call them, have put men on the moon and robots on Mars; that's more than anything our people have accomplished in thousands of years." Puffing a breath as Ondina scowled at her, Rita explained, "In the eyes of the Australian government…and well any other government anywhere for that matter, mermaids aren't real, and don't exist." She smiled sadly at Mimmi and handed the application back, "Which means I'm afraid you can't get a job."

"But you have a job," Mimmi said quietly looking down at the papers in her hand, before facing Rita. "You're a mermaid. Erik's a merman and he has a job. So there has to be a way…you did it."

Rita froze, actively avoiding eye contact with the three younger mermaids. "There is," She said finally in a near whisper, shoulders slumping as she closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. "It's dangerous, the price is _very_ high, and I'd hope to avoid doing it."

"I don't care," Mimmi insisted. "I-I want to go out and meet people, I don't care what the price is. It can't be that bad."

"Do what you want," Ondina snorted. "But I think it's a dumb idea." Sweeping up her discarded magazine she huffed her way back to the pillow covered bench and sat down.

"Mimmi," Rita asked, ignoring Ondina. "Do you know the story, the _real _story, of 'The Little Mermaid'?" When Mimmi shook her head, Rita continued, "In the original version the mermaid had her tongue cut out to gain legs, and her feet bled whenever she walked or danced." She cringed, knowing the words came out harsher than she'd have liked.

Face pale Mimmi looked down at Ondina who was peering over the edge of the magazine, mouth hanging open. Nearby Sirena sat silently, fingers flicking absently through the collection of beads and shells on the coffee table. "What are you saying? I-I don't have to have my tongue cut out do I, you didn't." Mimmi asked finally, voice shaking. "And-and I already have legs and my feet don't bleed."

"No, they don't," Rita answered after a deep breath, and looked down at her own legs. "But what you want requires a sacrifice, it always has…and it always will for our kind." Straightening she smiled weakly at Mimmi, "But if you are set on this course-" She paused eyes fixed on Mimmi; the younger mermaid stared back for several moments, and then nodded silently. "Very well, if that is what you want, I'll make the arrangements, but be prepared for the cost, whatever that might be." Without another word Rita turned and made her way up the stairway.

* * *

"I wish Ondina were here," Mimmi spoke her words sounding loud in the darkness of the roof top terrace of Rita's condominium. "Why can't we have more light? Why does it have be so dark?"

"This is the way it's done," Rita spoke, her form a shadow in the dim light of several candles placed on a table in the middle of the patio. "And Ondina can't be here for this, so it's just the two of us, and we're nearly out of time." Stepping forward, her features serious in the flicker of the candles Rita implored, "Mimmi, I've never told you girls how to live your lives, or tried to impose my will on you like Veridia has; but please, reconsider what you're doing, you can say _no_ to this…we have time."

Mimmi glanced at the clear moonless sky overhead, only the brightest of stars was visible, the rest drowned out by the blazing lights of Gold Coast. Licking her lips nervously she looked over at the only other form of light illuminating the terrace, a small digital clock, its glowing red numbers reading 11:59. "I don't know, now I'm not sure now-" The clock clicked to 12:00, the candle flames danced in almost imperceptible breeze, and Mimmi's words choked off as her attention was riveted on the stairs leading up to the terrace.

"Rita Santos," A female's voice, British and smooth, spoke from the darkness as a woman stepped onto the dim candlelit terrace. She was tall, garbed head to toe in an unadorned black Victorian mourning dress; a shawl draped over her shoulders, hair, thick and grey was covered by a black veil, an ivory cameo hair comb, yellow with age held the woman's hair in place. The comb was the only color, save for the bright crimson lips and the gleam of red lacquer fingernails that was visible on the stranger. "Rita Santos," The woman repeated taking a step forward, eyes like pools of darkness focused on the older mermaid. "It's been quite a while since we last did business…Eel Marsh House wasn't it?"

"Yes, yes it was," Rita replied, her voice shaking slightly, her face pale in the light of the candles. "It's been my wish never to meet you again. But now that you're here, let's just get it done and over with."

With a tilt of her head the woman turned and gazed at Mimmi, looking her up and down for a few moments. "Do I know you?" She asked finally, red lips turning up in a smile.

"No," Mimmi squeaked and took a step back, looking at Rita nervously.

"Interesting," The woman spoke smoothly. "Something about you seems-" She paused for a heartbeat, looking down at Mimmi's smooth, tan legs. "Familiar…you're sure we've not met, perhaps one of your family- a younger brother maybe?"

"No, we-we've never met before," Mimmi swallowed, taking a step back, her face pale in the candle light. "I don't know anyone that's ever met you."

"Do you have what we asked for," Rita interjected her voice hoarse.

"Why of course Rita Santos, I've never let a client down, you should know that," The woman's crimson lips turned upward with a hint of condescension as a large manila envelope appeared in one hand. "It's all here." As quickly as it appeared the envelope vanished, replaced by a rolled up vellum document.

"What is that," Mimmi took a step forward as the envelope disappeared, her eyes on the parchment the woman held.

"Everything you want, everything you desire," The strange woman answered as she stepped over and placed the parchment on the table, its surface blank the document flattened on its own accord. "A new world full of possibilities at your fingertips," The woman looked at Mimmi expectantly. "Your hand," She indicated, smiling. "To seal the deal."

"Mimmi," Rita spoke softly, she stood a dozen steps away, eyes staring at the yellow vellum parchment as if it were about to devour them. "Remember what I said, you can say _NO_ if you want to, and all of this ends, right here, right now."

"So true Mimmi," The woman in black said as she extended a palm, dark eyes narrowing in the gloom. "You can choose to become someone, anyone- or simply return to the sea and be forgotten and never spoken of again. The choice is completely up to you." Softly in a voice so low only the young mermaid could hear the stranger added, "But the young man at the park won't wait on you forever."

"What?" Mimmi questioned drawing back slightly. "Who are you talking about? Who won't wait for me?"

"Rita's correct," The woman spoke as if Mimmi had said nothing and waved a hand at the parchment on the table, her red lacquered nails gleaming in the candle flames. "You have a choice; you wish to be a land girl and have the entire world open up for you, I can offer you that. It's all very simple, and I don't have all night."

Biting her lip Mimmi stared at the blank paper, and finally asked, "Okay I'll do it." She closed her eyes for a few moments to hide the sight of Rita turning her back to face the dark waters of the ocean. "What do I have to do," Mimmi opened her eyes to take several steps to where the woman stood.

"You're hand," The woman smiled and waited until Mimmi offered one trembling hand.

It was over quickly, Mimmi barely had time to cry out as the stranger grabbed her thumb; a needle flashed in the candlelight and the young mermaid's bloody digit was pressed onto the parchment.

"It's done," The woman said simply and stepped away, document safely rolled up and held in one hand, with the other she produced the envelope again and presented it to Mimmi. "This is yours."

"What is this?" Mimmi questioned instinctively pressing her bleeding thumb to her mouth for several moments and then carefully taking the offered envelope.

"It's who you are now," The woman's cherry red lips curled up in a smile. "Congratulations Mimmi Santos, you officially exist."

"I don't recognize any of this," Mimmi said, carefully holding several papers closer to the candles to read them. "None of this is me, who was this?"

"A young girl from Canada, she drowned tragically, horrifying actually- her parents mourned for weeks… and now my dear, her death has made you real."

Mimmi looked over to Rita who was still staring out to sea and then back to the woman in black, "Wait, are you telling me a land girl died so I could get a job? That's not…that's not what I wanted, I don't think I want this, this is wrong. I want you to take it back."

With a shake of her head the woman glided backward toward the steps. "Well it's too late for that, as the saying goes my dear once you make a deal with the Devil there is no turning back."

"And the payment," Rita spoke for the first time in minutes as she turned to look at the woman standing at the steps. "You haven't named it, or asked for money. What's the price?"

"The price will be paid at a later date, as you well know," Was the answer as the stranger stepped backward and down a step. "Not until then. A life for a life Rita, as you know so well."

"What's that supposed to mean? What do you mean 'a life for a life'?" Mimmi's hands shook as she held the contents of the envelope as she took a step toward the shadow on the steps. "What's the payment, what's the price? I don't want this…I don't understand."

"No you don't," The shadow spoke. "But one day you will, and a deal is a deal my dear." The candles guttered in a faint breeze, the digital clock clicked over to 12:01 and the woman was gone.

"Wait," Mimmi cried out and bounding to the empty steps. "What price! Tell me!" She spun around facing Rita, "What did she mean?"

"I don't know, you'll have to wait and find out," Rita spoke heavily, her entire body slumping with an air of complete defeat as she walked to the stairs. "But it's too late now, and all you can do is continue on with your life, and forget this night ever happened."

"How," Mimmi asked looking down at the papers she clutched in her hand. "I don't think I can ever forget this."

"You'll find a way," Rita replied quietly as she descended the steps. "Just like I do every morning when I wake up."

* * *

Zac collapsed motionless to the floor of the chamber, the eerie blue glow of the curved pillars highlighting his lifeless face and the shocked looks up everyone as they stared with looks of horror.

Evie moved first, breaking the trance, and was at Zacs side instantly, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. "Zac….Zac!" Whipping her head around she shouted at Sirena and Ondina as she stood staring, slack jawed. "Help him! Use your Moonrings!"

"We can't," Sirena cried out, her eyes never leaving Zacs still body. "The Stone took all our Powers."

"You have to do something," Evie pleaded, and turned her to shake Zac again. "Zac!"

Mimmi stood motionless her gaze riveted to space between the pillars of glowing coral; a figure stood there, indistinct save for the gleam of red manicured nails and the upturned smile of crimson lips. Turning her head slightly she stared for a moment at Erik who was standing, jaw hanging open slightly and staring at the same apparition she had just witnessed. Jerking her head around to where Evie was frantically trying to revive Zac, Mimmi whispered, "A price…a life for a life." She looked in horror as the crimson lips of the shadowy figure turned upward in a smile of triumph her dark eyes flicked to the lifeless body of Zac, the smile growing wider. "What have I done?" Mimmi sobbed, collapsing to the floor.

"Help! Someone help!" Evie's scream shook the chamber, her eyes filling with tears as she shook the lifeless form of Zac, and then began CPR.

"No, this isn't what I wanted," Mimmi whispered as the woman in black slowly faded in the blue glow of the coral pillars. "I don't want this," Mimmi whispered again and was instantly was at Zacs side. "No. Don't give up Zac." Glancing around frantically Mimmi swept up the darkened Trident Stone, and in a moment of pure desperation pressed it to Zacs chest. "Please Zac," Mimmi sobbed pressing the stone against the still form of her brother. "Don't leave me! Come back! This isn't what I wanted!"

"Zac," Evie cried, tears running down her face as she shook the motionless form on the floor. "Fight this!"

Mimmi pressed the Moonstone against her lifeless brother, silently praying for something, anything, and then the Trident Stone began to glow filling the chamber with its Power…and Zac's body jerked and coughed.

"Zac," Evie gasped through tears, drawing back slightly and casting a quick glance at Mimmi.

Fluttering his eyes open, Zac looked blank for several moments, and then smiled as he focused on Mimmi, "Hey sis, what's happening."

Sobbing Mimmi embraced Zac, and held her brother tighter than she had ever held anyone in her life.


	3. Story 3: Rita, Part 1

How far would you go to get the life you always wanted…

* * *

"Veridia, please, I'm sorry," Rita begged, one hand raised to the red welts on her cheek, the mermaids back was against the cool stones that circled the Moonpool of Mako Island as she pleaded, "You have to understand please, I love hi-"

Veridia's only response was to glide forward and hit Rita again. "How dare you," The Pod Leader of Mako thundered. "You've shown yourself to a land person, you've pledged your love to one! You used our magic to gain legs!" Slapping Rita once again Veridia screamed, "You have broken every law we hold sacred! I cast you out! The pod casts you out! MAKO casts you out!" Ignoring Rita's horrified look Veridia's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, "Go Rita, or as pod leader I'll have no choice but to kill you."

"Veridia, please, we're best frien-"

"GO!" Veridia's voice was low, anguished. Not looking at Rita, she pointed imperiously toward the Moonpool exit. "I said GO and never come back!"

With a sob, Rita fled, her tail propelling her smoothly out the tunnel of the Moonpool and into the open sea.

* * *

Puffing a cigarette the man, clad in plaid Bermuda shorts and a matching short sleeve shirt, leaned casually against a huge 1949 Ford Prefect, the green paint of the car made it look nearly black in the darkness as the man blew smoke into the air. Glancing around at the deserted and dark stretch of Mermaid Beach, he took another puff of the cigarette, tossed it down and ground it into the sand beneath his loafers. With a sigh he reached into the car, pulled out a pair of binoculars and scanned the ocean beyond the beach, the waves luminous in the sliver of moon and the starlight overhead.

"Harry is that you?" A voice cried out gaining the man's attention.

Swinging the binoculars around the man caught sight of a dark lump in the surf, and then lowered the binoculars with a shout of, "Rita?"

"Yes," A voice came in answer.

Tossing the binoculars on the front seat of the car the man sprinted down to the surf, his form tall and athletic, his movements, despite his leather loafers and knee length socks, was confident and assured. "How'd it go?" He asked reaching the woman laying half in and half out of the water on the beach; the woman's tail was barely visible in the darkness as he grasped her arms and heave backwards, pulling her out of the surf and onto dry sand.

"I've been cast out," The mermaid sobbed as she allowed the man to pull her clear of the water. "Veridia banished me! We were best friends Harry, Veridia and I have known each other all our lives, and she banished me! I tried to explain it- what am I going to do?"

Clear of the wet sand, the man released the sobbing mermaid and sat down next to her. "So I guess it didn't go well?" He asked his voice, in contrast to the Australian accent of the mermaid on the beach was very distinct and very educated British. Sighing he shrugged, "I suppose it wouldn't have gone any other way."

"No Harry it didn't," The mermaid wept burying her head in her arms, her next words muffled, "I've been banished, cast out, I'm…I'm going to die! A mermaid with no pod always dies!"

"Oh Rita," Harry soothed reaching over to massage the mermaids shoulders. "You still have me old mum, and you most certainly are NOT going to die."

Lifting her head, Rita looked up, Harry's form an outline in the dark. "What do we do? I don't have a home anymore, and nowhere to go, I can't go back to Mako." She dropped her head back into her arms muttering, "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

Harry sat silent for a few moments looking out at the luminescent waves crashing onto the sandy beach. "Ever been to Nepal? Or England?" He asked finally, digging into his pockets to produce a cigarette and a lighter, "Or New York?"

"Of course not," Rita answered, turning slightly she thrust one arm behind her, almost instantly steam beginning to rise from her tail. "This is the farthest I've ever been in my life, Veridia insisted we stay close and guard the island."

"Well then," Harry answered taking a drag on his cigarette as he watched the mermaid's body shrink and reform in the darkness of the beach. He stood slowly matching his movement to Rita who was also rising, her body clad in a fashionably short dress, her feet bare. "We go to Nepal."

"Where," Rita questioned. "I've never heard of that place, how far is it, is it near Brisbane?"

"Oh, old mum," Harry laughed hooking one of Rita's arms in his as he led her in the direction of the car. "I'm going to show you the world Rita, a world that will make you the envy of all your fishy friends and you'll never want to go back." Taking a drag off the cigarette he blew a wreath of smoke. "Well after we go to England and you meet my mum, and I somehow get you an identity."

"I have an identity," Rita said firmly. "My name is Rita and-"

"You are a mermaid," Harry finished with a puff on the cigarette. "You might as well be the Man from Mars or one of those Faeries from Cottingley."

"There are people on Mars?" Rita looked up eyes scanning the sky and then frowning at Harry asked, "Where is Cottingley? And what's a 'faerie'?"

Harry laughed. "Well, nobody lives on Mars, not as far as I know, and as for Faeries at Cottingley…talk to my Aunt Agatha about that, she's the one that always sees them, and sometimes talks to them…I have no idea how she tolerates the Sidhe," Turning serious he said, "But Rita luv, you are a mermaid, and for all purposes don't exist. We might be able to get away with this in Romania or somewhere, but we're in Australia and that means paperwork and steamers."

Silent in the darkness Rita only stared as they strode toward the parked car.

"Steamships my love, we have to take a ship to England, I don't think even _you _could swim all the way there," Harry explained and then took a puff of his cigarette with a pause; "I suppose I could pass you off as my Bulgarian mistress when we board the ship, that would raise a few eyebrows of course but nothing a few bribes can't fix."

"Your what," Rita's answer was less question and more of a statement of anger as she stopped, forcing Harry to stop with her.

"Oh luv, I didn't mean it that way," Harry said with mirth. "I'll have to make up some kind of reason at the dock why you don't have a passport or any documentation." He paused, blowing smoke into the air. "Unless you want me to hide you in a trunk so I could smuggle you onto the ship like a gypsy."

"No thank you," Rita sighed. "I guess I can be Bulgarian…whatever that is." Tilting her head she regarded Harry for a moment, and then asked, "What is a Bulgarian?"

"It's a person from a country in Europe, Bulgaria, we could go there you know, take the Orient Express from Paris," Harry laughed as the two of them continued toward the dark bulk of the car parked beside the beach. "But first we go to England, and after that we go to Nepal, you will love it, huge mountains, and Buddhist monasteries….yetis in the snow…"

"That sounds…incredible, whatever those things are," Rita said, and staunchly stopped again, forcing her companion to stop with her, arms interlinked. "But these-" She reached up to pluck the cigarette from Harry's mouth and toss it onto the sand before he could protest. "Have got to go, the smell of them makes my stomach turn and I'm not going to spend my life wanting to vomit."

Wordless for a few moments Harry gazed at the half smoked cigarette on the beach, the cherry red tip fading as it went out. "Fine, you win," He sighed finally with a shrug, as he and the mermaid continued their stroll toward the car. "I'll give those up…eventually. Mum doesn't like them either."

"I'd like to meet your mother," Even though her smile was hidden the in the dark, it was evident in her voice. "She sounds interesting."

"She is interesting indeed my dear," Harry laughed. "As is my aunt, the Lady Agatha. But first, let me tell you about Nepal..."

* * *

End of Part 1


	4. Story 3: Rita, Part 2

How far would you go to get the life you always wanted…

* * *

Rita, Part 2

"Well, this is it," Harry said as he opened the front passenger door of the maroon Jaguar Mark 7 and offered his hand. "I-I know it can be a bit much at first."

Taking Harry's hand Rita stepped out, her eyes glued to the massive three story grey shape of Bretby Hall and its round turret wings. Turning her attention to the large arched entrance of the edifice, a coat of arms blazoned proudly above the door, she asked cautiously, "Harry, just what does your mother do? On the ship you told me she didn't work, so how can she afford to live in someplace like this?"

Harry grimaced and sputtered a reply, "Well you see…mum is well…she's the Countess of Chesterfield." With a sigh he added, "I should have told you that earlier I suppose."

Rita blinked, silently, and then asked, "So you're rich?"

"No," Harry apologized, looking like a schoolboy caught with his hands in the cookie jar. "My family…is- well…we aren't exactly rich." He finished the sentence lamely.

"But, what about all this-" Rita motioned toward the huge building before her. "If your mother is the 'countess' that makes you the…" She trailed off, eyes narrowed at the man who was her lover.

"The Earl," Harry added hastily. "But it's all inherited, the title, the land…well what's left of it anyway, which isn't all that much." He frowned avoiding Rita's gaze, and went on, "I am sorry love; I hope you weren't expecting me to be some fabulously rich aristocrat, like the Earl of Grantham over in Downton or something-"

"Harry!" Rita spoke sharply. "What is going on? Why haven't you said anything about this before? Your family is some kind of royalty and you never told me, why!"

"We're hardly royalty," Harry sighed, and hung his head for a moment, shoulders slumped; straightening he lifted his head and met Rita's stony look. "My mother is the Countess of Chesterfield; my dad didn't have any kind of title, he was a banker to be honest-" Voice wistful, he continued, "Dad-dad died in France during the War and well…mum found out he had a gambling problem, and owed money, a lot of money. She had to sell most everything to pay his debts, except the house of course, we can never sell that. Most of the money left is tied up in Agatha's inheritance and investments, and she's loaded. The whole situation is rather embarrassing, so I try to avoid talking about it."

"Oh," Rita mustered pursing her lips. "I had no idea, I'm sorry; I guess I have a lot more to learn about life on land than I thought. I don't understand any of this."

"It's not your fault," Harry sighed. "It's a lot to take in if you don't know what to expect and I should have told you-" He froze, head shooting to gaze sharply at the front door of the large castle. "Oh shit, here they come, and mother is _not_ happy."

"What?" Rita spoke confused, looking from Harry to the large and closed double doors of Bretby's Hall's main entrance. "Who? There's nobody there-" Her voice dropped to whisper as one of the doors flew open. "Harry, how did you know?"

Two women, nearly identical save for their clothes and the yellow parasol one of them carried, hurried out the doorway. Gravel crunching under their heels the two of them quickly crossed to where the Jaguar sat in the driveway.

"You," One of the women announced as she walked across the drive. Form clad in a sensible tweed walking dress, greying hair held up in a matronly bun she came to a halt, and looked Harry up and down for a heartbeat, and with a finger in his face said, "Are late. Both of you should have arrived an hour ago, and lunch is now cold! We called P&O and your ship docked this morn-"

"Oh Charlotte," The other woman interjected as she came to a stop. Unlike her companion, she was dressed casually in loose pants and a blue silk blouse, the addition of a canary yellow parasol, and a single long braid of light grey hair gave her an entirely unconventional look. "They were delayed by a rail accident near Northampton," She spoke sadly, eyes distant. "The poor children on the train, why did that lorry drive not stop at the crossing."

Rita exchanged an uncomfortable look with Harry, who shrugged helplessly, before the woman in tweed drew both their attention.

"Well," The woman spoke pointedly to Harry, and then narrowed her eyes at Rita, examining her as if she were meat at a butcher. "Are you going to announce us or not? I've waited long enough, Henry, introductions."

"Henry?" Rita questioned, her expression puzzled.

"Mum," Harry hung his head exasperated, and then sighed and looked over at the mermaid beside him. "Rita Santos, may I present my mother, Charlotte Stanhope, Countess of Chesterfield, and my aunt, the Lady Agatha."

"Um…um, your Highness-" Rita paused one hand held out to Harry's mother, eyes wide with panic as she looked at the man next to her for support. "I-I-"

Charlotte smiled and took a step forward, hand extended to take Rita's in her own. "Ladyship," She spoke as she enclosed Rita's hand in her own, and added with conspiratorial wink, "You may call me Charlotte. You can save 'Highness' for Prince Phillip, if we ever happen to meet him-"

"He's Greek you know and sleeps in the nude," Agatha spoke, one side of mouth curled in grin as she stepped forward and to embrace Rita. "Prince Phillip I mean, which is probably why the Queen looks so happy, and welcome my dear to Bretby Hall."

"Agatha!" Charlotte spoke, her face aghast, she took a step backward and addressed Rita, "You will have to forgive her sometimes she speaks when she should not."

"And you are such a prude," Agatha sighed.

'In any case, I should be the one calling you Lady," Charlotte said her attention on Rita and ignoring Harry who stood, mouth hanging open slightly. "Based on your heritage." Her eyes flickered down to the silver and blue Moonring Rita wore.

With an instinctive motion Rita covered the ring with her free hand and smiled weakly, "Thank you…I guess."

"Mum! Please," Harry exasperated. "Can we for once act like normal people? You're scaring Rita."

"Normal?" Rita questioned, eyes going from Harry's mother to his Aunt Agatha and her canary yellow umbrella and blue silk shirt. "And I'm not really scared, Harry, I'm finding your family...interesting."

"Good," Charlotte beamed as she moved over to take her sons arms in her own. "I knew we'd get along."

"And Harry, when has 'normal' ever been fun," Agatha spoke loudly, and swinging around she hooked one of Rita's arms in her own and began walking toward Bretby Hall as he told Rita, "No my dear we are not a normal family, 'normal' is terribly overrated, but I'm sure you will love us, and we you," Looking over her shoulder she said, "Come along Henry, we have lunch waiting, even though it's cold. We had fresh cockles delivered this morning." Glancing at Rita she asked, "You do like cockles don't you? It's a type of clam."

"Ah, yes," Rita nodded as she and Agatha continued across the drive toward the main doors of the castle. "I suppose, we don't have those in Australia."

"You'll love them," Agatha answered. "We have some steamed, and then some raw ones, we weren't sure how you like them."

"I rather like her, so far," Charlotte Stanhope said, taking her sons arm in her own as she watched Rita and Agatha make their way toward the main door of Bretby Hall. "Considering she is half fish."

"Mum," Harry's face paled. "How did you-"

"Oh please Harry," Charlotte laughed. "Agatha did a reading while you to were on _The Orcades_. Did you really think that WE wouldn't know what you were getting up to in Australia?"

"I didn't think you would," Harry sighed. "You didn't know about dad's gambling problem."

"He was your father," Charlotte said somberly. "You are my son; of course I'd make sure to keep a better eye on _you_." Pursing her lips she added, "Although you really need to do something about your spending, you are so much like your father in that regard, and we can't keep depending on Agatha for investment advice, although she is never wrong."

"Thanks," Harry muttered. "How long have you known Rita was a mermaid?"

"The moment you sent your first telegram," Charlotte smiled, patting her son's hand. "Agatha did a reading of it immediately."

"She's still doing that? And seeing Faeries?"

"Of course, that's her life's calling, she held a séance for Lady Mountbatten recently, your aunt is very well respected in that regard," Charlotte answered.

"How'd that go?" Harry asked, looking at his aunt and Rita curiously, the two of them a dozen paces ahead as they walked toward the main doors of Bretby Hall.

"Not so well," Charlotte heaved a sigh. "Sometimes Agatha speaks when she should not…Lady Mountbatten was not very pleased when Agatha told her that her husband Louis would die on a boat."

"Well he is in the navy," Harry snorted, and then seeing the sharp look his mother gave him amended, "But Aunt Agatha shouldn't say things like that; our family has enough problems already."

"That's what I told her, even after she wrote letters to some Institute of Paranormal Studies in London asking if she could join them." Charlotte spoke with a nervous laugh. "She even told them some boy named Zachary in Australia would be born and become a merman with a blue tail. I have no idea where she gets those ideas."

"Seriously?" Harry snorted. "Rita said mermen were just a legend nobody has seen one in thousands of years, if they even existed in the first place."

Charlotte paused, watching as Agatha and Rita, laughing at something Agatha said walked through the open doors of Bretby Hall. Face serious, she looked at her son, "Henry, just promise me you won't do anything rash."

"Huh?" Harry answered, looking at his mother. "What do you mean?"

"I know you have the Sight Harry, maybe not as strong as Agatha or me," Charlotte spoke, her voice low, intense. "But I know you have it; just as I have…does Rita know?"

"Mum," Harry croaked, his free hand rising to wipe away the sweat that suddenly appeared on his brow. "Can we NOT bring that up today? I want this to be a happy day."

"Just promise me Henry, no matter what happens, you won't do anything rash," Charlotte spoke, repeating her words. "You are my only son, promise me; nothing rash."

"I…I promise," Harry answered with a nervous swallow.

"Good," Charlotte smiled forcefully. "Let's go in and have lunch shall we?" Patting Harry's hand in her own she resumed their walk toward the main entrance of Bretby Hall.

* * *

A/N: Okay I'll admit it, I was watching WAY too much of "The Crown", "Downton Abby" and "Doctor Thorne" while writing this chapter, please forgive me. And thanks for reading


	5. Story 3: Rita Part 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mako Mermaids, or any of its properties.**

**WARNING: Even though the overall rating of this story is "T" for Teen, the following Chapter contains disturbing images. Reader discretion is advised.**

* * *

How far would you go to get the life you always wanted…

* * *

**Rita part 3**

"Rita, how are you settling in?" Agatha Stanhope asked without looking up from the round table sat at, the surface of which was covered in cards, all face down. Turning one over she sighed, "I see you and Harry's love life has hit a barrier. Perhaps the two of you should try a long bath together-"

"Agatha," Charlotte Stanhope interrupted sharply from where she sat in an overstuffed chair, a cup of tea and saucer in one hand. "Stop that, there things about my son and his fiancé I do not wish to hear!" Smiling at Rita, who stood in the entrance of the drawing room of Bretby Castle with the expression a rabbit in car headlights, Charlotte added sweetly, "Come in dear, and have a seat, it's been almost a week since you and Harry came home and we've hardly seen you."

"I-I…my Lady," Rita answered, doing her best to curtsey. "I'm sorry."

"Rita dear, there's no need for that," Charlotte smiled humorously. "I know the two of you have been busy, Harry never was one to sit around this dreary old house with two stuffy old ladies-"

"I have never been stuffy," Agatha interrupted with a humph as she shuffled the cards expertly, and then folded them into a stack on the table. Archly she added, "Or 'old'. You on the other hand my _older_ sister…"

"Oh please, not that again, you were only ten minutes behind me," Charlotte tsked and then gazed at Rita. "Have a seat." She motioned to a velvet settee across from her, an antique coffee table separating the two. "We haven't had a chat since the first night you arrived."

Rita made her way over with a nervous apology, "I-I'm sorry we haven't talked; Harry has been so busy showing me off at parties in…Manchester I think it was called?"

"That is so like him, but at least he's gone for as short time this afternoon, so it's just the three of us today. We can use the time to get to know each other," Charlotte indicated a small table filled with an assortment of sandwiches, scones, and jam, as well as a porcelain teapot and cups, "Tea?"

"I-I suppose," Rita stammered. "We never had this sort of thing on Mak- I mean in Australia where I'm from. Nobody in my family drank tea-"

Charlotte in the act of pouring a cup, paused and exchanged a glance with Agatha. Both turned to look at Rita, who shifted under the twin gaze. "Really…in Australia, your family never drank tea," Was all Charlotte responded a half-concealed smile on her face as she continued to pour into a cup. "Your family must be interesting indeed."

"Rita," Agatha with sigh, and picked the up the stack of cards on the table and shuffled them again. "There are things about you we must discuss. Important things about you, and Harry."

Rita froze, and then recovered, her expression blank as her hand unconsciously covered the Moonring on her finger. "I'm not sure what you mean-" Relaxing she took the cup of tea and porcelain saucer that Charlotte offered.

Agatha pursed her lips, almost in amusement, and placed the cards back on the table in stack. "Do you know what these are?"

Rita swallowed and squeaked, "No, not really…cards? I've seen Harry and his friends play a game with them."

"Not the same, these are Tarot Cards," Agatha explained, as Charlotte refilled a cup perched on the edge of the card table. "They were first used in Italy in the 14th century for divination to see the future, care for a demonstration?"

"I-I've never seen them, and I don't know what you mean," Rita gulped, her hand holding the tea and saucer quivered, threating to spill the liquid onto her legs, quickly she set both of them down on the coffee table and stood with an apologetic, "I'm sorry I just-"

"You are a mermaid," Agatha stated bluntly, and picking the top card from the deck she turned it over. The image on card revealed the image of a serene woman seated on a throne beside the sea, a jeweled cup in one hand. "The Queen of Cups," Agatha explained, "A woman caught between land and sea."

Rita's hand moved to cover the Moonring on her finger again and she took a step toward the door, "I-I don't know what you mean…that's crazy…how-"

"Rita, please, you can relax, and sit down," Charlotte soothed her eyes piercing Rita's. "Agatha and I know, like all the women in our family going back to Avalon, we have the Sight. It's from Faerie blood or maybe the Sidhe, we're not really sure." She glanced over at sister and then back to Rita, "So we are kindred spirits in that regard, although I will admit, you may be far more supernatural than we are."

"I-I don't know what you mean by that," Rita stammered, moving closer to the door. "I'm sorry, I really think I should go."

"She's more on level with a werewolf actually," Agatha spoke, her tone matter of fact as she took a sip of tea. "A complete shapeshifter, and governed by the Moon, but at least I don't think she'll kill us in our slee-."

"Agatha!" Charlotte spoke sharply. "You really must learn to govern your tongue; you are scaring Rita."

Rita paled and with a swallow and took a mincing step toward the drawing room exit, "I-I better go-"

"Rita please," Charlotte spoke, aiming a withering gaze at her sister. "Relax, and please sit. Agatha and I both know; you have nothing to fear from us."

"We've know for weeks," Was all Agatha agreed, sighing heavily. "And I do apologize." Gathering the cards up one again into she shuffled them and looked Rita up and down. "I hadn't expected you to react this way, but then again maybe I did, who really knows."

"Oh Agatha," Charlotte sighed. "Sometimes you just make things worse when you don't talk plainly." Turning to Rita, she said, "We know you are a mermaid; it was in the cards from the moment you met Harry, and we've always known, so please do have a seat." Once again Charlotte indicated the settee that Rita had evacuate. "You are not the only one who is surrounded by magic in this house, and you have nothing to be afraid of."

Sitting gingerly, Rita swallowed, and doing her best to imitate Charlotte and Agatha picked up her cup of tea and saucer. "I don't know what to say."

"Well you can begin with telling us about yourself," Agatha replied as she sat back in her chair. "And that ring you have; we haven't seen a ring like that since our last visit to Crete."

"What?" Rita exclaimed, and hands shaking quickly set her saucer and cup down. "What do you mean?"

"Agatha and I went to Crete with mother and father years ago, we were quite young at the time. Father was a patron of the digs Arthur Evans was doing at Knossos, and donated enormous amounts of money," Charlotte explained as she placed several small sandwiches on a plate and handed them to Agatha. "We were just young girls at the time, it was wonderful."

"It was truly delightful," Agatha nodded picking up her cup of tea. "Our first trip on a steamship, first class of course because father and mother wouldn't have it any other way." Pausing she looked at Rita. "Apparently one of the workers found a ring like yours buried in the mud in the ruins of the Minoan port at Heraklion-"

"That's not possible," Rita's voice was barely a whisper, her hand covering the ring on her finger. "There are only 50 Moonrings on Mako-" She froze as Charlotte and Agatha both leaned forward to stare at her. "I-I," Rita trailed off slumping into the cushions. "I suppose there's no real reason for me not to be honest, it's not as if Veridia is around to hear me."

"Who's Veridia?" Charlotte asked as she helped to scones and jam.

"Apparently, she's a woman of great influence and power," Agatha answered, looking at a card she had turned over. "The High Priestess."

"How," Rita breathed, standing she took several steps over to the table. Before her lay a card with the figure of a seated woman, the figures blue robes cascaded around her body like waves, and the gold crescent of the moon lay at the woman's feet. "This is incredible, how could you know that?"

"So," Agatha smiled. "Have I interested in a reading now?"

Rita gazed at the card, and then the two older women, licking her lips, she replied, cautiously, "I suppose it couldn't hurt, I don't know how this is possible."

"Goo, this should be very interesting," Charlotte added as pulled a chair from a small chess table tucked in the corner of the room and brought it over for Rita. "Shall we see what the cards reveal," She spoke mysteriously as Rita sat down.

"What will they show?" Rita ventured.

"Who you are, what you most want, your fears, and where it will all lead," Agatha answered while shuffling the deck. Setting the cards down, she pushed the stack across the table to Rita. "Cut the deck please, it helps with the reading."

Rita glanced over her shoulder at Charlotte, then at Agatha, and then back to the cards, "But won't a knife ruin them-"

"She means divide the stack in two," Charlotte gave a small laugh.

"Oh," Rita's cheeks flushed slightly as she picked up half the deck, dividing it.

Stacking and squaring the cards, Agatha looked at Rita, "For this reading we'll be doing traditional Celtic Cross spread." Flipping a card over it once more revealed the woman on the throne seated by the sea. "Well the Queen the Cups once more, the representation of the questioner… you, and the current state of your being."

"How," Rita breathed leaning forward. "This is impossible, you mixed the cards up, I watched you."

"That is the mystery of Tarot," Agatha intoned, and flipped another card over, she crossed it with the first. "Hmm, the Lovers," She smiled slightly at the representation of a winged Celestial being gazing down at two naked human figures, one male, one female. "You and Harry," Agatha spoke archly, and flipped over another card.

"The Page of Swords…reversed," Charlotte spoke, setting her teacup down she leaned to look closer. "Agatha-"

"What is it?" Rita's voice was tinged with alarm, she leaned forward following Charlotte's gaze, and looked at Agatha. "What does this mean, what's going on?"

"The Page of Swords reversed," Agatha's voice was distant as she looked at the card before her, the image of youth in armor, wielding a blade, the card upside down. "The origin of your question…. The card indicates a young man, a man who is willing to be defensive, and use his gifts for the wrong reason-"

"Agatha please stop this," Charlotte's voice cut Agatha off like a knife. "Stop this right now, I don't think you should continue."

"No," Rita said, leaning forward to look at the cards. "If this is about me and Harry I want to know, go on."

Agatha kept her eyes on the card table, "The Future, things that will transpire…" Turning a card over, Agatha pushed her chair back slightly, eyes glued to the card as her breath exploded out of her. The image was of a black horned goat-like being situated on a throne, two horned naked figures, one male, one female, in mockery of The Lovers card, stood beneath the grotesque figure. "The Devil," Agatha breathed finally. "Violence, an agreement struck, seduction into bondage with an oath. Either you or Harry will make a deal with the Devil."

Rita surged to her feet, "What does this mean? Who is this Devil?"

"Agatha, no more," Charlotte pleaded in a whisper stepping backward away from the table. "Agatha, stop this."

Eyes staring at the cards spread before her Agatha pulled another from the deck and turned it over. "Futures events, that may or may not occur." She intoned as the card revealed a jolly looking man, knapsack over his back, white rose in one hand as a dog yapped at his heals and the rays of the sun shone upon him. The man was poised to step off a cliff, oblivious. "The Fool; someone impulsive and unwilling to face the outcome of decisions-"

"Agatha, do not do this!" Charlotte whispered as her sister reached for the final card in the cross and turned it over. "Do not turn that card-" She staggered backward, hands grasping the sofa to steady herself as Agatha turned the fifth card over.

"What is that?" Rita took a step away from the table eyes flickering from the card to the ashen faces of two sisters. "What does that mean?"

The card on the table was that of a skeletal figure, astride a white horse, carrying a standard bearing a flag with a white rose.

"Death," Agatha whispered. "It means the final result of you and Harry will be Death."

* * *

**A/N: I want to extend a huge thank you to my friend Dawn, not only is she a Wiccan, but she does Tarot readings, and a was a huge help with this chapter. Thank you Dawn.**


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